


The Kiss

by LunaFaye



Category: Star Trek RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Angels & Demons, Angel Mating, Angel Sex, Blasphemy, Demon Sex, Demons, Infidelity, M/M, Mild S&M, Pain, Painplay
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-27
Updated: 2014-01-27
Packaged: 2018-01-10 06:08:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,089
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1156049
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LunaFaye/pseuds/LunaFaye
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>AU fic where Chris is an angel and Zach is a demon. The infidelity does not concern the main pairing.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Kiss

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Medeafic](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Medeafic/gifts).



> This was written as a gift for Medeafic.

The comet roared by in a cloud of icy debris, speeding through the black void of space. Beside it, heart racing, flew an Angel. Revelling in his newfound freedom, he flew as fast and erratically as he could, marvelling at each discovery within a universe he’d only ever heard tales about. Everything he saw was beyond his untried imaginings of never before seen vistas of galaxies and planetary systems: nebulas and stars, gas giants and white dwarfs, all so beautiful and otherwise unknown to him. He realised the stories the Guardians had told gave no justice to the wonders that flooded his senses with their glory. His initial trepidation forgotten, Heaven would just have to wait.

A flash of gold tore past and disappeared to the other side of the comet. The Angel’s curiosity piqued instantly by whatever new treasure the expanse of space had to offer, he made to go after it until he suddenly felt a strange sense of foreboding. Unfamiliar with the emotion, he immediately slowed. Turning mid flight to scan about him, he abandoned the comet and made his way to a great cluster of asteroids. He didn’t see the entity again, but he knew it was there and was startled to realise it was something to mistrust. Perhaps God had sent the Archangels after him, which meant his punishment would be severe—but surely He would not waste the Four on a lowly Third Sphere angel.

There! Another streak of gold. The Angel dipped again, plunging into the asteroid field and zipping tightly between the moving metal rocks in search of somewhere to hide. His heart beat heavily now, as he tried to make sense of the uncertainty seeping through him, making him doubt and become unexpectedly cold. He intermittently checked over his shoulder, spinning and tumbling, his wings working to their limit as he flew like he’d never previously had to. He paused between the shifting rocks, looking out to the breadth of stars, eyes desperately trying to locate whatever it was that watched him. His silvery skin rippled anxiously, as he considered what could be in his wake. He stretched out his wings, and with a great sweep was moving again, although more cautiously.

Swooping behind a large asteroid, he landed on its rocky surface to try and ease the ache of his fluttering heart. Hand to chest he could feel the pulse of his dubiety. Such unexplained apprehension stole the joy and happiness he’d known when he was in Heaven. If not for his own selfish desire to learn and know, he would not be here wondering why he’d ever taken the chance to abandon his Host, and above all his God. Pacing with vexation across the rough surface, he questioned his change of heart. Lips pressed into a thin line, determination creased his brow as he yearned to realise his dream, and see that which was otherwise forbidden to him. Third Sphere perhaps, but he had longed to see what God had created; he had reasoned that his punishment would be well worth the memories.

Surely not! He would be brought before God, a sinner; disobedient, selfish. The punishment would be harsh. He struggled to contain the battle within himself, one side vying for his loyalty to God, and return to Heaven repentant; the other pushed forward his own dreams and wants. He had only hoped to see, to have a thought of his own to recall and dwell upon. Why was this happening? What was causing the terrible conflict that raged in his heart and mind?

He crouched, one hand leaning against the rock, his silver white wings spread about him in protection and anticipated flight, and prayed with a curled fist pressed to his forehead. His God was a forgiving God; surely this transgression was trifling in comparison to the faults of others. Whimpering in frustration, he threw down his fist, cracking it painfully against the rock. 

The cry left his mouth before he understood why, the immediate jab of pain that shot through his arm had him holding the injured hand close. Instinctively, his wings wrapped themselves about him, shrouding him in a soft silver-white cocoon. Confusion and fascination twisted his brow as he held up his palm and saw for the first time his own blood, trailing from below his little finger down to his wrist. The jagged wound throbbed, which surprisingly abated the darkness within the Angel’s soul, and soothed the angst he tried to fight. The uncertainty trickled away as he bled.

However, just as he found peace the bitterness and unwavering dread clouded his mind again, and he wanted nothing more than to be rid of his misdeed, and be once more safely confined within Heaven’s Gates. Tears spilled, as he realised he would gladly forgo the pleasures he’d seen; wipe clean the memories and sights just to be safe and secure. Forgiven.

His heart began to thump wildly in his chest. Conceit and envy grew, pushing aside his subservience, changing to embrace a greatness he’d never in his life experienced. The Angel’s blue eyes darkened but remained vigilant, and searching through a gap in his parted wings, he carefully looked left and right to see if his pursuer, perhaps even his peril, was coming for him. An overwhelming sense of despair weighed heavily on his conscience; his feelings of worth and superiority melted away as the grip on his heart squeezed.

Believing the golden light he’d seen to be the cause of his torment, he tensed his legs and spread his wings in preparation of flight. Knees bent, he was about to launch when the glistening being was suddenly before him. He gasped, eyes wide, as the golden creature landed. The Angel cringed, his wings falling behind him, clutching his bloodied hand to his chest. The affliction seized his heart mercilessly, almost forcing him to his knees as he fought the crippling despair.

Gilded leathery wings tucked themselves neatly behind the other creature’s back. Eyes the colour of iron ore struck the Angel immobile with a single gaze. Dark hair, as black as the universe in which he played, swathed the creature’s head. He was no taller than the Angel: arms and legs long, and graceful. But the auric wings arched over his head and draped behind him to his feet. Resolute, the Angel straightened as he clutched at his aching chest, and shifted his own wings, taking comfort in the feel of his flight feathers brushing against the backs of his ankles.

“Why do you hunt me?” gasped the Angel, desperately fighting the anguish in his heart. He had no doubt he was weakened by whatever the creature was doing to him, but he met the creature’s gaze, and found the strength to keep his eyes steady and focussed.

The creature stepped forward regarding the Angel from his short umber hair, down his lithe, silver body to his bare feet. The crushing weight that bore down on his heart instantly lifted, and the Angel sighed in relief as he felt his strength return. He lifted a brow, as he waited for the creature’s answer. A foe worthy of his respect; it was clear the match was anything but even.

“It has been a very long time since I saw another in this vast universe. I could say you were an answer to prayer, but I haven’t prayed since the War began,” said the creature.

The Angel felt the heat radiating from him like a small sun. It was only then he realised he stood before a Demon. But he was shocked to find that what his brethren had told him about such creatures were all lies. In spite of the Demon having caused his aching despair, he was surprised to note that he was as beautiful as any of God’s creations around him.

The Demon reached for the Angel slowly, but just as the long sharp claws were about to stroke his cheek, the Angel grabbed the Demon’s wrist with his injured hand. He was stunned by the intense heat, but held firm, as the Demon looked from his captured hand to the Angel’s sharp blue gaze. Then he watched the blood trail down the Angel’s forearm, and the Angel saw a look in his eyes that could only be described as hunger.

A black claw tip drew across the pearly skin of the Angel’s cheek from where he held the Demon’s arm. The gesture was light, almost gentle. He shivered at the unexpected sensation, and gradually released the Demon’s arm. He was mesmerised, and unable to look away from his adversary’s burnt eyes.

“It has been a _very_ long time,” said the Demon in a tone that almost sounded like relief. The golden hand hovered above the Angel’s collarbone, as though desperate to stroke the shimmering flesh but unable to bring himself to physically touch. Eyes locked, the Demon eventually laid his hand on the Angel’s shoulder, visibly shuddering at the contact. Another burst of searing heat met the Angel’s flesh, making him gasp. He flinched slightly, but refused to pull away.

The Demon leaned closer until the Angel could smell the bitter tang of brimstone and fire, the acrid heat so very different to the soothing environs of Heaven. The Angel’s heart beat faster at the scent he found startling, but not offensive. He drew in a long breath, savouring the newfound aroma.

“You feel like a cool breeze,” said the Demon close to the Angel’s ear. His breath sent tingles along the Angel’s arms, and down his back causing his feathers to rise as a consequence.

“And you the punishing desert,” said the Angel remembering the words of the higher ranked angels, when they had spoken of these creatures. They had been cruel and spiteful, but the Angel no longer considered the Demon a threat. Those eyes were not dark and hollow, as the other angels had described, but full of something the Angel had never anticipated – hope. That alone gave the Angel strength, and he felt his heart swell with compassion. Regardless of the admonitions of his brethren, the Angel had seen what they never had: desperation.

The Demon’s brows lifted. “You do not fear me?”

“Should I?”

“Perhaps. You are alone beyond Heaven’s Gates. Where is your Host?”

The Angel felt the trail of heated breath trickle down his back. The Demon’s hand slid down to rest at the base of his throat. The blaze of heat across his chest made his breath seize, but he knew the Demon sought relief in his apparently cooler skin. Alone, and without his kin, the Angel knew himself to be at the mercy of such a formidable assailant. He looked unwaveringly into the Demon’s burnished eyes.

“It would seem God has chosen to forsake me,” he said harshly. His urgent prayer had not been answered. He knew his death was in the hands of this creature, but he wouldn’t make the task an easy one. The universe was vast, with plenty of places to hide, and he was a fast flyer.

He was surprised when the Demon let him go and stepped back, but not before the Angel heard the almost disturbing sound of a suppressed laugh.

“Cast out from Heaven, no less! You have my pity.”

“You have no such feeling,” said the Angel, stung. Though his knowledge was limited in many ways, he still knew enough about his rival, the apparent nemesis of his kind. At least he thought he knew, when he considered all he’d been told by the other angels. If they’d been wrong about how a demon looked, then perhaps their own understanding wasn’t entirely infallible.

“Do not assume to know me Angel. I once looked as you did,” said the Demon, his expression changing to a look of bitterness.

The Angel was taken aback. He looked at the Demon sceptically; perhaps he had judged his brethren too hastily. Though he could only see truth in the gleaming lines of the Demon’s face, his mindset kept him guarded.

“You lie,” he whispered with a rasp in his voice, as he was unwilling to believe.

“Do I? What do you know about my kind?” said the Demon his brows rising.

“You value that which is abhorrent; you torture and relish the suffering. Your unscrupulous ethics encompass all that is destructive and soul destroying,” said the Angel passionately. “I know enough, Demon. As for your appearance, best ask your Dark Lord. It was because of Him the likes of you originated.”

 The Demon’s eyes narrowed. “Seems the truth’s been obscured in the telling, Angel. It was in fact Jehovah who honoured me with this form.”

“No, you’re lying to me again Demon,” said the Angel, as the thread of uncertainty wound a path around his heart. The higher angels had always warned of a demon’s ability to manipulate, and dispel truth. He squeezed his injured hand into a fist, and felt relieved as the resulting pain eased his doubt.

“There is much you do not know, Angel,” said the Demon. “I have no doubt you were told Lucifer was thrown from Heaven because He dared challenge Jehovah for the throne.”

“Yes,” said the Angel. “It is preached to us.”

The Demon smiled, but it was not a pleasant smile. It was spiteful and nasty, and it made the Angel’s wings quiver.

“Jehovah is a jealous God and a vengeful God. He loved Lucifer like no other, which was why He saw fit to punish us both, once He learned of Lucifer’s infidelity.”

“Of what do you speak Demon? The Lord loves us all, and He would never favour one over another.”

“He did, Angel. When Lucifer betrayed that love with another Jehovah cast Him and his lover from Heaven, for all eternity.”

“No,” said the Angel desperately hoping the Demon was telling more lies. “My Lord would never be so cruel. He is saddened by sin, not angered.”

“Believe what I say Angel. I know this as truth because I was the one Lucifer was with when Jehovah found Him.”

“The Fallen,” the Angel breathed. As realisation sank in he took a step back. His eyes suddenly filled with tears, as pieces joined, and the picture of the only life he knew became a different scene altogether. Before his own creation, God had banished Lucifer and His followers from Heaven’s Kingdom. He’d been told it was because of Lucifer’s conceit, but now that he knew it was because of jealousy; that his Lord had punished Lucifer for loving another, had punished out of spite. He could barely contain the thought that the Master of all he knew could be so callous, so cruel.

But he was loyal to his God, and had loved Him since the moment of his birth. He must have loved Lucifer more than the Angel could comprehend for such a simple indiscretion to have turned Him. For Him to react in such a way the discovery must have destroyed Him.

“You broke His heart!” he cried, as tears fell down his glistening cheeks.

“Lucifer broke His heart,” shouted the Demon. “I’ve been in exile, alone and isolated before Jehovah created any of this.” He threw up his arms to indicate the universe in which they now stood. “It wasn’t my betrayal, and yet your God chose to damn me to this life.”

“God’s pain hasn’t lessened as a consequence,” said the Angel sadly.

“I’m afraid my penitence is all but spent. And your God claims to be forgiving.”

The Angel looked away. His God _was_ forgiving, and merciful and loving. But he couldn’t break the thread of doubt that was growing into a constricting knot. His fist began to ache as he clenched it tighter, determined to bring forth the pain, hoping to quash the feelings of confusion and betrayal. Eventually, the ache of his wound dried his tears, and he looked to the Demon again, surprised that the creature only stood patiently as though waiting for him to realise the truth.

“If what you say is true, Demon, what is to become of you?” asked the Angel. “Is your only purpose to traverse this universe until God sees fit to destroy it?”

“So it would seem,” said the Demon, his voice heavy. “My life has been torturous ever since Jehovah sent me into exile. Every moment I feel His pain. It has turned my heart to nothing but char.”

“So this is your punishment,” said the Angel, and he couldn’t help but feel pity. To learn that God had been so merciless pierced something deep in his heart. “When you touched me Demon, you felt relief?”

“Yes, your presence alone is enough to take away most of the ache. To touch you lessens it all the more.” He paused, watching the Angel with careful eyes. “To kiss you would take it from me entirely. It is said the Heavenly Hosts hold the power to relieve the damned of their torment. That pain and sorrow is cleansed from a rotted soul with a consecrated kiss.”

The Angel blinked in confusion, “I am only Third Sphere, lowly and unworthy, I may not be blessed with this power,” he said.

“Do not doubt your abilities, Angel,” said the Demon his tongue sliding out to lick a golden lip.

“God will not be happy if I heal you.”

“Then let him stop you from what will surely be an act of kindness. I feel your compassion, Angel. You believe my punishment to be unjust.”

The Angel searched the Demon’s eyes, desperate to find deceit and treachery. But the only thing he could see was a silent plea for mercy; an appeal to finally be at peace. In spite of the knowledge that he would be punished, he reasoned that absolution was the greater quality. _So be it_ , he thought. _Even Third Sphere angels are capable of granting forgiveness._

“I will give you what you seek,” said the Angel. “Your faith is reward enough for me.”

Smiling with what could be considered triumph, the Demon stepped toward him, but the Angel could only see the gratitude and shivered involuntarily as fiery breath washed against his skin. Bronze eyes, filled with a desire the Angel did not recognise, penetrated his determined ones. As they drew together, mouths almost touching, something suddenly stopped them: a pressure between them, as though the repelling force of like magnet poles refused to enable their coupling. The Angel considered it briefly, but the Demon leaned forward, his eyes locked with the Angel’s, as his lips parted in readiness. The resistance imploded and their mouths joined, as thousands of screams blew around them ruffling the Angel’s feathers and rippling across the Demon’s leathery membranes.

The Angel closed his eyes, ignoring the agonised voices, as the Demon’s hot mouth and tainted breath filled him with unknown longing. He pressed against the Demon moving his mouth to the erratic, hungry rhythm the creature urged from him. As the dying voices faded into the empty blackness, he felt the terrible despair that embodied the Demon leach into his soul and heart. Morbid, horrific images flashed before his eyes; he felt every happy moment of his life snuffed out, as the severity of the Demon’s burden bled into him. He moaned as his body flooded with the new and inexperienced, soul-wrenching emotion. He felt the Demon’s guilt, and every single instant of the Demon’s suffering, as he inhabited a space filled with such beauty, and yet existing completely alone and forsaken.

The Angel felt his skin prickle, his wings shuddering. He grabbed the humerus bones of the Demon’s wings, yanking him closer, urging him to be stronger to the point of pain. _Yes!_ The one thing he needed most was to feel his body suffering, ravaged beyond reason, so the dreadful heinous emotions that swam in him like writhing serpents would leave him in peace.

“Demon,” he rasped against the burning mouth, “Please, I need to feel pain. Please make me bleed.”

The Demon groaned with arousal, and pulled the Angel closer. Clawed hands scored deep lines down the Angel’s back. The Angel threw back his head, gasping before a satisfied groan escaped him. Pain, scorching and torturous, and yet exquisitely beautiful tore down his back. He felt the release as the physical pain soothed the emotional one. As the ache in his heart eased, a deep contentment took hold. He realised that he was marked by the Demon—branded, which made his heart throb with renewed yearning, and a desire to only be with his enemy. The jagged lines on his silver back were as brutal as the severing of his loyalty to God.

 The Demon latched onto the exposed skin of the Angel’s throat, his teeth grabbing the flesh as he sucked roughly. The Angel wrapped his arms around the Demon’s head, moaning as his back bled and his neck ached. The stinging pain was worth more to him than God’s forgiveness as the last of his sadness, the final remnants of melancholy, faded in the Demon’s punishing caress. The Demon grunted, and pulled up, leaving a bright purple-red weal on the Angel’s silver neck. 

 He sought the Demon’s burning lips with a gasp, eager for the Demon to have him, and wanting his powerful embrace. The Demon raked his clawed hands through the blood stained quills of the Angel’s wings. Feathers pulled, fluttering around them like sparkling red rain as they caught and threw the light around them. They each seized the other in their attempt to get closer, both desperate for more, but fast approaching the edge of frustration in their want.

He opened his mouth to receive the Demon’s scalding tongue sucking its length, and relishing the Demon’s throaty growl, as the creature pulled him closer still. Their bodies slid and scraped: agamous forms unable to express their true desires, as hipbones connected, and thighs rubbed, but nothing could release them from the rising need, and burning want.

With a harsh cry the Demon let his prize go with agonised reluctance. The Angel stumbled back pressing the back of his hand to his bruised and burning lips, his eyes filled with the reflection of the Demon’s frustration. The Angel stepped closer, wanting to again feel the intensity of emotion, the pain of the Demon’s lust.

“Demon, what has happened? What have you done to me?” said the Angel.

“More than I expected,” said the Demon his expression forever changed, as the ache in his eyes was now one of longing.

“Are you healed?”

“Yes, but I fear I am inflicted with a new suffering. It would seem you’ve given far more than you meant to, Angel.”

“It is you,” said the Angel, battling his confusion at the emotion he now felt toward his adversary. “You present such a gift, and I feel that I have not been permitted to fully enjoy its pleasures.”

“Though I no longer feel the pain of damnation I have only replaced it with the agony of need.”

The Angel took the final step, pressing his lips to the Demon’s once more, though the Demon responded the Angel knew there was more he couldn’t have, more to experience and share.

“You torment me, Demon,” he said against the Demon’s mouth. “Please give me the fullness of what I desire.”

“I cannot, Angel,” said the Demon taking the Angel’s wrists, and gently pushing him away. His eyes, so full of remorse, but a mere hint of the suffering he’d endured, glistened as he turned his golden back and unfurled his great webbed wings. The starlight, though meagre made them glow like smouldering embers.

“Please, no,” cried the Angel, reaching for him, as he realised the Demon’s intention to leave. “No, do not leave me. I am Christopher. Now that you are healed, and we are to dwell in isolation, at least please tell me your name.” His voice was filled with anguish, but he was hopeful at the Demon’s hesitation. He turned back towards the Angel, a distinct new pain in the burnished eyes.

“I have no name,” said the Demon quietly, and the Angel could feel the desolation the simple fact caused him. “Banished so long ago, my name is forgotten and insignificant.”

“No,” said the Angel, his mind tumbling over the idea of a name that would suit. “The Lord would remember you.” He struggled with the unexpected crush on his heart. Though the pain of healing the Demon was still raw in his memory, he knew the ache to be the dread of losing him. “You may have wronged Him but He will always remember you. It may not be for reasons best recalled, but I know He would know your name, and He will never forget who you are. If it pleases you, I will call you Zachary. It means, God remembers.”

The Demon paused a moment, his eyes brightening as he regarded the Angel. “Zachary,” he said and smiled. “Perhaps it is fitting that I be named for the pain I have caused.”

The Angel smiled back, as he saw joy cross the Demon’s face perhaps for the first time. The constriction in his chest eased.

Clawed feet again stepped toward the Angel, but Chris took the final step that brought them back together. Zach’s mouth was burning against his lips but Chris neither feared nor cared, as he felt himself succumbing to the need. His hands twisted in Zach’s hair, and he grunted against the Demon’s teeth, as Zach sought the sweetness of Chris’s mouth with his tongue.

“Zach,” moaned Chris causing the Demon to growl.

“My Chris,” Zach purred in return. They held and grappled and moaned in frustration, as the asteroids around them tumbled and collided.

Then two great slashes rent the darkness of space; one bright white to the point of blinding, the other a harsh red that emitted a heat so fierce even the Demon hissed. Their protective belt of iron rock blasted away, exposing them to the full force of the lacerations. Chris clung to Zach all the more tightly, determined to hold him, regardless of the consequence. He felt Zach’s hands pull him closer, and he smiled. The love he’d once felt for the Lord was now fully focussed on Zach.

A voice, united in words but divided in pitch resounded throughout the void. One was deep and formidable, the other powerful yet sad.

“Your love is forbidden, as Heaven and Hell are forever opposed. Angels and Demons can never be as one, as the War in Heaven split the Realms so that neither Angel nor Demon would ever be tempted. Such is the path of your combined disobedience: your immortality will be dissolved, and your virtuosity stripped. This sin is unforgivable!”

As the final echoes faded, the edges of space healed. Zach pulled Chris closer, and in spite of the threat, the demand and the consequence he pressed his mouth to Chris’s once more. If they were to die then let them be together.

“It would seem our Lords are as obstinate as each other,” said the Angel.

“Perhaps. And I am once again to face punishment for the act of love,” said the Demon.

“Whatever becomes of us, I will remember you Zachary.”

“You have done more for me than you can know, and for that I will always remember you Christopher.”

Foreheads pressed together, the Angel and the Demon held each other, hoping their time would not be cut too short, and praying, though futilely, that their respective Lords would show mercy to a pair whose only trespass was to love.

 

 

He woke with a gasping, frightened breath, unaware he’d even been asleep. His heart pounded so strongly, so fast in his chest that he reached across and clutched at it, believing it to almost ache with the incessant beating. Then the realisation hit him: it was real. It beat within his ribs, alive and giving him life, giving him physical presence; no longer the epicentre of his emotions, but the flesh and blood reality that he was now indeed mortal.

He sat up awkwardly, feeling every stone and twig under his nakedness. His back was aching, and he moved to ease the pain in his wings, but felt nothing. They were gone. He immediately missed their weight on his back, and was disconcerted at their removal. Having had them all his life he now longed to wrap himself up in them, and feel their protection against his sorrow and pain.

But he no longer felt it, the consistent pain that had been forever lodged in his being—a throbbing that he’d still felt the echo from even after the kiss.

He immediately stood in the long sweeping grass, and roared with joy, as tears rolled down his cheeks. He was free, finally free of the burden and blackness. Again he put a hand to his heart, smiling as he felt its strong thumping. If They considered this punishment, They were very much mistaken. He swung his arms out, turning on the spot before he found the transformation included much more than he’d anticipated. He bit his lip, as he looked down, and saw his cock swinging along with him. Memories flooded the Demon’s mind, as he recalled the times he’d spent with Lucifer. He gave himself a moment to relive the bitterness, the pain of losing his love, and the ferocity with which Jehovah had punished them both. As highly-ranked angels they’d been blessed with a truer form, and were able to express their love to a greater extent. When he’d been banished, Jehovah saw fit to change him, and reduce him to little more than an entity.

 Then he remembered his saviour, the Angel who’d seen beyond the exterior to the true essence of his nature. A creature so broken by hurt and despair, a being lost in the black of pain and bitterness. He’d taken a chance, and sacrificed himself to ensure the Demon no longer suffered.

Had he been sent here also? The Demon surveyed his surroundings beneath a sun that shone in a brilliant sky. Trees and flowers bloomed filling the air with the sweet scent of Earth’s nature. It had been an exceptionally long time since the Demon felt happy, and though he still needed to find his mate he felt that if his joy were any stronger he would burst with elation. He ran through the grass calling until a form became clearer in the swaying grass. The Angel lay nearby, sleeping on his side, his hands cradling his head. The bloodied scratch marks remained, but they were healing. His wings, however, were no more.

The Demon sank to his knees beside him, to look upon the features bestowed on a creature that had given him so much hope, and peace and above all love. He smoothed a hand across the golden-brown head, and smiled when the Angel whimpered slightly, his brows creasing until he stilled again. He trailed his fingers down the bruised neck, over the shoulder and along the torso. With a smile, he ventured further down to the hip then thigh, delighting in the sensation that tingled in his fingers, and of seeing the muscles under them twitch at his touch. His eyes widened as he saw the Angel’s flaccid cock resting against his thigh.

Unsure but eager, the Demon’s hand hesitated briefly before gently stroking along the soft length. The Angel groaned, his eyes suddenly blinking open, and he immediately focussed on the warm eyes staring above him.

“Demon,” he whispered reaching up to caress his lover’s cheek.

“Yes, Angel,” said the Demon, “But I remember your name is Christopher.”

“Christopher,” said the Angel sitting up slowly, noting his nakedness, and that of the Demon. “You are Zachary.” His eyes bright, as he saw the delight in the Demon’s face at having his new name remembered.

“Yes, God remembers,” said Zach. “It would seem we are banished here, no longer to dwell in our respective worlds.”

“But we are free now, Zach. Regardless of the betrayal and jealousy, perhaps God is a forgiving God after all.” Zach saw Chris’s eyes move to his shoulders before he hesitantly felt his own. “They took our wings.”

“Yes, we are mortal now; human.” He took Chris’s hand, pressing it firmly to his chest so he would feel the new heart beating within. “But we will be happy here.”

Chris stroked Zach’s jaw with his free hand his smile encouraging, and Zach leaned forward again, taking his once-rival’s mouth with his own. The intensity of the touch was so full of meaning this time. What had once given him relief for his constant pain now filled him with a desire to bring pleasure and happiness. Chris pushed forward, his mouth just as hungry, as he urged Zach onto his knees. Zach wrapped his arms around him, pulling him closer, and loving the feel of Chris’s arms going about him. The touch of heated skin felt more concentrated; Zach’s finger tips brushed across the muscular dips and curves of Chris’s back, tenderly sweeping across the cuts until he reached lower, and felt the firm round cheek of his lover’s buttocks. He clenched it firmly, pulling Chris’s hips closer with a fierce tug. Chris groaned into his mouth, his tongue plunging in to slide along his.

Zach breathed in sharply as his newly formed cock, hard with arousal, forced its way between their pressed bodies. Chris’s erection was just as apparent, and they looked at each other, so desperate for more, but apprehensive to move forward. Slowly, and with Chris’s eyes watching every movement Zach gripped Chris tightly, and the Angel groaned heavily, as his arms went around the Demon’s neck for support, pulling at silky black hair as Zach moaned.

“Zach,” he breathed, “Zach, what is happening?”

Zach ran his hand up and down the length pulling hard, and squeezing as his fingers rippled over the taut head. Chris cried out, burying his face in Zach’s neck, pinching skin between his lips, as his hips jerked against Zach’s hand.

“I can show you what was previously denied,” Zach said, his voice low. Grunting, Zach held him; he loved the feel of the Angel trembling, as he slid his hand up and down. Chris clung to him, words tumbling from his mouth incoherently, but the murmurings were as sweet as Chris’s lips kissed all over Zach’s neck and jaw.

“Zach,” he pleaded, his forehead pressed firmly against Zach’s shoulder. His cock dribbled in Zach’s hand as his body shook.

“Trust me.”

Zach pushed against his chest; Chris reluctantly released him as he laid back into the grass. Zach eased his legs apart then leaned forward, and took the swollen head of Chris’s erection into his warm mouth. The sensation was so familiar that again his mind brought forth fleeting images of a love experienced long before time mattered. A love so shrouded in secrets and lies that Zach faltered as he remembered the look on Lucifer’s face when Jehovah had found them together like this, his mouth around his lover’s swollen hardness, and Lucifer begging him for more. In an instant he’d been cast out, transformed, and filled with a loathing so great the agony made him scream.

“Zach, what’s wrong?” asked Chris stroking the black hair as Zach shook away the memory.

“Thoughts I’d rather forget,” he murmured, and slid his tongue along the shaft before he encased the head with his mouth.

With a cry Chris’s back arched, and his hips bucked, as Zach drew him in deeper with a long, languorous suck. Chris buried his hands in Zach’s hair urging a faster pace as his body writhed, legs quaking in anticipation. Zach gripped the base of Chris’s cock, squeezing as his mouth moved up and down the shaft. What Jehovah had denied, Zach was determined to finish.

“Zach, please, Zach!”

The plea roused more memories, urging him to swallow Chris down into his throat before gently scoring his teeth on the up stroke, forcing another loud cry from Chris, as his hands tightened in his hair. He released him, and heard the sigh of relief, as he tenderly took one of the tempting balls that hung beneath, and engulfed it with his mouth.

Chris’s leg suddenly went around him, and Zach could feel Chris push himself up onto his elbows.

“Oh God, Zach,” he moaned, as he watched him sucking and nibbling. He combed his hand through Zach’s hair until Zach again took his cock into his mouth. With a gasp Chris fell back slumping into the grass.

Zach sucked along his finger and tentatively traced a circle around Chris’s puckered hole. The leg tightened around him and Chris’s hips flexed upwards. Zach pushed against the taut ring, and breached Chris’s straining body. A further insertion made Chris buck up suddenly groaning loudly, as Zach stroked him.

Zach saw Chris’s head twisting from side to side, “Zach,” he panted over and over, his hand fumbling blindly until Zach took it. He squeezed reassuringly before letting go, and gripping Chris again firmly. His tongue slid over the engorged head, slipping beneath the foreskin and making Chris hiss. His unrelenting finger was joined by a second sliding in and out, curling and stroking to the rhythm of Chris’s cries. Zach reached down to cup the tight balls beneath, massaging them in his palm before he gently squeezed. Saliva and pre-come dripped into the grass as Zach increased his speed, and Chris’s hips left the ground.

“Zach! Oh God, I can’t, I-”

Zach released him, using only his hands until Chris came in great spurts across his belly in a powerful first orgasm. His cry echoed across the grass, raising the birds from the nearby trees.

“Demon,” he gasped, “Zach!” he reached out clutching for his mate. He was shivering, and Zach moved to hold him close. “Please make me hurt, I need to know how to hurt.”

“Angel,” groaned Zach stroking his arms and back and kissing his brow. “I do not wish to cause you pain again.”

“Please,” said Chris, almost desperately. His body was shaking but not with cold. “I need to know this is real.”

Blue eyes so full of pleading melted Zach’s resolve. He swiped at the come on Chris’s abdomen, slathering his own aching erection. He helped Chris onto his knees, swallowing hard as Chris leaned his head against his folded arms and presented himself in a position of such vulnerability. Chris’s body trembled as he sobbed, and Zach was torn between desire and sorrow. He smoothed his hand down the Angel’s lacerated back and felt him shiver at his touch. He could hear Chris crying, so great was his need to feel the physical pain that in their previous life had brought him solace.

He parted Chris’s cheeks, gasping at the sight of the Angel’s tight pink sphincter. Though he’d penetrated with his fingers he knew it would hurt the Angel on his entry. He held himself, dripping with come, and pressed forcefully against the Angel’s sweet hole.

“For you,” said Zach, and thrust deeply, harshly, brutally into his love.

Chris screamed, as his body split around the Demon’s invasion. Zach shuddered as Chris’s rigid body tried to accept him. Immersed to the hilt, Zach clung to Chris’s hips holding still momentarily, as he felt the warm tight passage envelope him within the Angel’s body. Muscles clenched, and Zach had to grit his teeth to curb the flood of sensation that surged through him.

He leaned over kissing Chris’s shoulders, briefly murmuring his regret, as Chris convulsed with his sobs. He knelt back, and pulled Chris up, drawing his body to him so he could feel the Angel’s back pressed to his chest. Zach kissed his neck, caressing his body with sweeping movements up and down his torso. His hand went to Chris’s semi-hard erection, stroking it slowly and gently as Chris’s body clenched around him.

Tears coursing down his cheeks, Chris twisted his head around, and Zach kissed the crying mouth, suckling at lips that trembled and sobbed. Ensuring he remained inside he carefully laid Chris back down onto his side, holding a leg to his shoulder, as the other tucked under him. Zach leaned on his hands placed on either side of Chris’s head and began to move, fucking into the Angel in a slow and even rhythm.

Zach felt Chris grip his wrist, and saw his forehead pressing into his knuckles; a pillar of strength as he succumbed to the torture he craved. The pain-filled cries became a burden that squeezed at Zach’s heart. It was tearing at his new soul that he would cause such pain to the one he loved with all he had. And yet, the blue crying eyes looked up encouraging, forgiving and thanking Zach; the beauty, the desire, and the need to have him were locked in those twin, sky-coloured orbs.

Zach heard Chris’s discomfort subside to a series of winces, and sharp hisses. He shifted him to lie on his belly, unsure if his back was too painful to lie on. But this way he was able to lean over Chris, grip his hands, and lace fingers. He kissed the claw-raked shoulders, and moaned into his lover’s neck, as he felt the urgency mount. Chris pulled their entwined hands to his mouth and kissed Zach’s knuckles. Zach felt his heart swell with a love he’d never known, even with Lucifer. The Angel had been worth every painful moment he’d spent alone and adrift in exile, and he would spend the rest of his life ensuring Chris knew and understood how much he meant to a Demon, whose faith in existence had once again been restored.

“I love you so much,” he whispered against the Angel’s ear.

“I love you,” Chris whispered.

Zach closed his eyes, as his breath hitched and with a low groan he came deep inside Chris’s body. Then, panting and sweating, he withdrew slowly, gently before collapsing heavily next to Chris in the grass.

“Thank you,” Chris whispered.  

Zach pulled Chris to him, and kissed his quivering lips. He wiped the tears from his cheeks before kissing each one in turn then settling against his mouth once more. They lay back in the grass arms about each other; both Angel and Demon felt safe and whole and above all loved. 

 

  

 


End file.
